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Aug 15, 2015 17:44:50 GMT
August 2015
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Post by Guest on Sept 30, 2015 0:55:27 GMT
"Anybody here?"
When her call went unanswered Laniz opened the door and stepped through the threshold. A familiar smell of overly-ripe apples and fresh tea wafted out the door as if escaping a vacuum. She was taken aback and the potency made her blink a couple of times before continuing into the nook. Normally Laniz didn't make trips to her husbands office. It was a special place that granted him short spells of alone time. He could do things that he liked and enjoy the silence without children bickering around him or demanding attention like they did at home. But Story also liked the hidden room, which is why her mother requested that the girl take a temporary hiatus from hoarding its space.
"Cory?" Laniz scanned the room but had difficulty trying to avoid the stacks of miscellaneous books and clutter.
She sighed. What a mess. You'd think Story would keep the place clean but she was just as messy as her father! After placing a basket down on the nearest empty surface she started to clean up. Inside the basket was a warm lunch cover by a linen cloth to keep in the heat: seasoned fish wrapped in grape leaves, bread, and a cooked apple that had been sweetened with sugar and cinnamon. Medicinal herbs were also packed. Cory always managed to "forget" eating and keeping up with necessary treatments frequently "slipped his mind". Laniz wouldn't have that. If the man keeled over it wouldn't be because he wasn't taken care of! It wouldn't be because of that...
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
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Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 30, 2015 3:00:56 GMT
A pile of old parchments shifted, their movement heralded by a groggy groan. A spindly hand portraying the first signs of the dreaded liver-spots emerged from the rubble, and began awkwardly sliding across the ground. They touched upon a pair of circular glasses, and pulled them into the heap. After a few seconds, a head popped out, the glasses adorned on its somewhat large nose.
"Who... ahem... who'sere?" Cory groggily inquired, peering around the room through the askew spectacles. As soon as his eyes fell upon his wife, he sat up quick as a soldier.
"Laniz! You... you..." he coughed into the open air. "You didn't tell me you... you were coming today. I would... I would have cleaned up... or something..." He stared around at the mess dispassionately. Even thinking about sorting through it was exhausting.
"I was just... just taking a quick nap. I was trying to de... decipher some manuscripts. What's this?" He caught sight of the basket. "You didn't have to. I think I... I have... I have some food around here somewhere..."
The librarian's heart warmed at the gesture. Even after all these years, even after seeing him at his absolute worst, Laniz still cared. Regardless, he began searching through the dystopian apocalypse in search of the aforementioned vittles. As he frantically shuffled through papers and books, his handkerchief, more reddish-brown than white, fell from his sleeve and fluttered to the floor.
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Aug 15, 2015 17:44:50 GMT
August 2015
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Post by Guest on Oct 1, 2015 4:41:50 GMT
"I don't make you meals because I have to. I make them because I WANT to, my dear husband." Laniz spoke lightheartedly as she criss-crossed through the room to tidy up. Typical for every available seat to be occupied by parchment personalities instead of guests! But what could she say? This was the same man she'd joined in life all those years ago.
"Don't.. " Laniz was about to be clever when she knelt over to collect some fallen documents from the floor. Then she saw the bloodied cloth. It had cut her down like an unsuspecting bird being shot from the sky. "Don't tell the girls. I'm not a delivery girl for just anyone, y'know."
She did her best to recover her playful tone and quickly tucked the handkerchief into her dress pocket before it could be missed. The cleaning instantly became a stress-relief instead of a chore..
"Take the medicine first.. please," she pleaded thinly without breaking stride.
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
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Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
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Post by Annasiel on Oct 1, 2015 4:57:03 GMT
"Fine, fine..." Cory muttered, ending his futile search. He dropped his handful of crushed pages, and grabbed the packet of herbs. Downing it in a single swallow, he coughed again, and cringed in disgust.
"You'd think, with... with all this magic, they'd find a way t... to make it taste better," he lamented. His chest was feeling calmer. Bitter as it was, the medicine did its job. The librarian knelt down beside the rest of the basket, leafing through the contents.
"It all smells so delicious... as... as... as usual. And the fish..." Cory paused for a moment to admire the meal.
"Beautiful," he finally said. He wasn't looking at the fish. "Thank... thank you. For everything. I... I can never say it enough. Thank you. You're... you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
The aged man took the cooked apple from the bag, and set it aside. Cory closed the container to keep the contents warm, touching the lid with a, "for... for later," before rising and returning to his desk with apple in hand. Now, if only he remembered where he had left his kettle.
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Aug 15, 2015 17:44:50 GMT
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Post by Guest on Oct 5, 2015 15:57:33 GMT
Laniz watched her husband without a word. His eyes squeezed tightly shut and his face revolted against the bitter flavor. She wanted to laugh like she had in the past but the feeling had devolved into something different.. Displeasure over taste wasn't amusing anymore. It was constant because his need for treatment was constant. Delusion kept her believing that Cory's health was on the mend. That dream was nothing more..
"You'd think, with... with all this magic, they'd find a way t... to make it taste better."
"You'd think will all of this magic there would be a way to rid you of sickness," was all Laniz muttered quite rancorously under her breath. Why couldn't the healers cure his ailment? They could do so much! Broken bones, damage you couldn't see under the skin, anything. All of it seemed possible under their fingertips. So why? Why wouldn't Milova let them help.. Why were the Divines letting such a wonderful person-
"Thank... thank you. For everything. I... I can never say it enough. Thank you. You're... you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Butterflies battled to lift the heavy weights that were dragging down her heart. How could someone feel so good and so bad at the same time? So loved and then so afraid. The librarian began to meander about like nothing had changed, like he just shared a recipe for bread or something else completely ordinary. Meanwhile his wife was coming apart inside. What was he looking for? His kettle? Of course.. Of course he was. Laniz stepped lightly toward the side of the room where Cory was searching. His back was facing her but that didn't matter. Long tan arms wrapped him in a hug. Her arms weren't as lean as they used to be, and his back hadn't been so bony in the past.. That only made her hold him tighter.
Willing herself to speak she said, "Your kettle.. is behind that stack of western history books.. over-over there." Daring not to release her grip Laniz used her cheek to nudge against Cory's back in the direction of 'there'.
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
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Post by Annasiel on Oct 7, 2015 4:25:27 GMT
Cory was ignorant to the internal struggle his wife was suffering, fully immersed in his hunt for the kettle. Only when her arms wrapped around his torso did he stop. He touched the forearms that encompassed him, his heart fluttering and his stress evaporated. He hadn't even realized he was stressed until now.
"Your kettle.. is behind that stack of western history books.. over-over there."
A soft cheek pushed against his back, guiding him towards the pile of occidental recantations. Cory reached behind the atlases and textbooks to procure a very tarnished copper kettle. He picked it up with one hand, while the other maintained its contact with Laniz's arm.
"Would you like some... some... some tea, my love?" Cory inquired, turning around to face his wife. Only when he looked into her face did he understand. Faces were never as easy to read as books for the man, oftentimes as telling as a tome written in a forgotten script. But when you stare at ancient runes unlearned for hours, days and years, you learn every squiggle in every letter on every page. To understand the language is important, but you can still recognize the page. Scrawled all across this one were words of worry.
"What's wrong? Are you upset? Are... are the girls alright?" The librarian knew the page but not the message it told. In his ignorance, he could only could see what was, not why it was there. Cory touched the stablemaster's cheek carefully, as if to check for a fever or sweats. Blindly, he moved the finger down to her lip, trying desperately to understand.
It's me. He finally realized. She's worried about me.
His hand fell in unison with his face.
"Don't fret... dear. I... I'll be fine. It's nothing to... to... to mope about."
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Aug 15, 2015 17:44:50 GMT
August 2015
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Post by Guest on Oct 7, 2015 18:30:30 GMT
"No. Please," Laniz quickly begged. Her normally confident voice was replaced with a weaker one. "Just stay like this for a moment," she pleaded, returning her husband's hand to her cheek and then his fingers to her lips. "Please. Just a moment and then.. we can make the tea."
The woman's strength was cracking like glass. It spiderwebbed little by little until she couldn't hold the dislocated pieces together on her own. Her jaw clenched defiantly as her shoulders threatened to shake. Tears stung the corners of her eyes and made her brow furrow. Laniz let her chin fall but kept Cory's open palm pressed against her cheek the way a child might cling to a blanket. Indulgence only lasted a moment before she started to scold herself.
No! It wasn't going to be like this! Crying wouldn't solve anything.. It wouldn't heal her husband's lungs. It wouldn't make him happy or prepare their girls. But his hands.. How cold would her world be when they were- Stop! Gods, she couldn't even think it..
She sniffled once and then kissed Cory's hand again. "There, now. Now we can make the tea, my love." In a slow motion she seized the copper kettle from her husband then looked up to him. "Earl Grey.. right?"
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Oct 7, 2015 18:43:28 GMT
This was why he hid the blood. Cory couldn't stand seeing Laniz like this, his pillar of strength dissolving so easily. He was supposed to be the weak one. He was about to open his mouth to protest, when the stablemaster regained her composure. The copper kettle was pulled from his hands, and his wife was herself again.
"Earl Grey would... would be lovely," the man replied. He suddenly felt immensely tired, a deep seated fatigue settling in his body. The tension faded away into loose depression. Cory pulled away from his wife, slouching in the chair at his desk. There he sat, on hand over his heart and the other on his knee, watching Laniz with a passion only reserved for soulmates.
"And... if you please... I have china in the cabinet near the tapestry. Three... three cups, actually. Story is probably thirsty after running... running... around..." his lungs seized. The medicine was supposed to prevent that. It always had, yet here he was, gasping like a stranded fish. Finally, he was able to procure a racking cough, deep and course, and the much needed oxygen pulled back into his aching chest. He could taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue, but thankfully, none had escaped his lips.
"Sorry..." he gasped, "...sorry... just a..." he gasped again, "just a short spell. No... no need to be alarmed." The deep lethargy was now accompanied by a sense of spinning nausea. The room felt like a boat, shifting to and fro in turbulent waters.
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Aug 15, 2015 17:44:50 GMT
August 2015
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Post by Guest on Oct 28, 2015 19:56:57 GMT
Laniz didn't need to wait for Cory's answer. Earl Grey was his favorite tea.. Just as The Adventurer's Almanac was his favorite book and apples were his favorite fruit. She'd already turned on her heels before he could humbly accept the suggestion.
"And... if you please... I have china in the cabinet near the tapestry. Three... three cups, actually. Story is probably thirsty after running... running... around..."
His voice directed her eyes toward the heavy wall hanging. Most tapestries in Etirath were made to display epic battles in history. Most would favor highly ornate pieces that showed Lady Theolandra slaying a mighty dragon.. But the one that hung in the librarian's nook was far less fantastic. It depicted a brightly colored fox chasing a grey hare through brush and tangled vines. The predator's mouth was opened wide to show sharply pointed teeth and the hare's legs were long and flat, just out of reach. Laniz smiled as she opened the cabinet doors. She remembered how Alice appreciated the depiction of the animals and tried to name the vines growing around them. Story was quick to applaud the brutal truth of the art compared to the myth of Lady Theolandra's battle with a dragon.
Violent heaves of coughing interrupted the memory. Laniz had to take pause. She found herself holding her breath until the fit was over. Her husband apologized as he always did when he didn't want her to worry. It was only the medicine, she convinced herself. It tickled his throat.. That's why he coughed so badly this time. Then her eye caught something special as they searched for the mentioned china set. On the middle shelf next to some antique trinkets was a set a handmade ceramic teacups. She hadn't seen them in years! The girls were so young when they made their father that tea set! Four cups with wonky handles and uneven edges stood steadfast in a line.. It took three days for the girls to finish them. Hiding the surprise from their father wasn't a problem but they wanted them to be perfect.
"Here, my dear. Drink. It'll clear your throat." After the tea had brewed, steeped, and been poured, the stablemaster offered a cup to her husband. But it wasn't china. Placed in front of him was a red stained ceramic cup that bulged out on one side. The handle was well proportioned but hung low near the base. Story had fashioned the scarlet masterpiece when she was eight.
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
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Post by Annasiel on Oct 28, 2015 20:21:37 GMT
A jittering hand closed on the handle of the delicate cup, lifting it carefully into the air. Two eyes magnified ten-fold by their spectacles stared, blinking furiously to hold back tears. From coughing, he justified. He smiled at the cup, and then at his wife.
"I thought... these... these were lost. Wh-wh-where did you... you find them?"
The compressive knots that twirled beneath his breast still tensed, but he ignored them. Every time they climaxed in power, he would hack into the crook of his elbow, fully mesmerized by the beautiful work of art that was before him. Beautiful. It was hauntingly enticing to just stare off at the single point in space, like a lullaby sung to a cooing babe. The elder librarian felt the rest of the world begin to slip away in his deep concentration. Even the coughs had stopped. They didn't often stop, did they? It was a good feeling. Relaxing. Calming. He should consider this a blessing, maybe the medicine was working this time. What was he thinking about, again? The cup. In front of him... but where was it? It wasn't in front of him any more. Only an inky black that sizzled like falling snow. He couldn't even feel it in his hands. He couldn't feel any hands. Did he have hands?
"La...Th..th..." he tried to tell his wife, expressing his concern at the sudden lack of hands. But the voice he heard behind the screen of pumping blood and violent buzz wasn't his own. It couldn't even form a whole word, let alone a sentence.
The coughing wasn't the only thing that stopped. He couldn't breathe.
"La...niz...bree...bree..."
His invisible hands flailed, dropping the bright red mug. It fell to the floor, shattering into a thousand tiny shards of forsaken art. The faltering man tried to clear his throat of whatever obstruction plagued it, but only salty heat seemed to surface. It fell to the floor, splattering against the wooden planks with villainous, inanimate glee. He leaned... tilted... and finally slumped off of his chair, collapsing to the dusty ground.
There Cory lay, glasses askew, blood dribbling out of his mouthing lips as he desperately sought what he could not seem to find. Not air. Not help. Not healing powers. Just a simple name made nameless by some cruel Divine joke.
La...niz...
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Aug 15, 2015 17:44:50 GMT
August 2015
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Post by Guest on Jan 12, 2016 23:15:54 GMT
"I thought... these... these were lost. Wh-wh-where did you... you find them?"
Laniz was pouring her own cup of tea when she answered, "I found them amidst the mess. I'm sure more than one treasure is hidden in her somewhere." She added honey and two spoons of sugar to her cup as she always did. "I think I'll start to come here with you from now on," she added after tapping her spoon over the edge of her cup with a ting. "I could clear up the clutter while you-"
Cory's labored breathing and slurred speech interrupted her suggestion. Her pale eyes lifted to meet his but found a gaze that seemed to be dozing off in another direction. She watched warily as her husband teetered unsteadily from side to side in his chair, looking around clumsily as he were straining to see something that wasn't there but had been before blinking. What was happening? It didn't look right, that was for sure. Laniz wouldn't take any chances. She abandoned her drink and rushed to take a place beside the struggling librarian. He dropped the mug before she could seize it from him.
"Cory, what's wrong? Talk to me," she commanded. No. She pleaded, crouching beside his chair with an arm wrapped around his back for support. It was like her body began to mimic the symptoms of her loved one. The tips of her fingers and toes started to tingle like the beginning of an uncomfortable numbness that crawled steadily up her forearms and calves like the drag of nails.
"La...niz...bree...bree..."
"I'm here. I'm here, love." Trembling hands cupped Cory's blanched face. They pushed back his thick bangs and felt for fever as violent coughs shook the man's frail body. "Cory, tell me what's-" It soon became clear that the bookkeeper wasn't going to be giving his wife any answers. Why would she need them? The blood was response enough.. spilling onto the floor and splattering across the edge of her dress. Laniz took her limp husband into her lap, her body drenched in a cold sweat and ragged with quick shallow breaths.
"Cory," she whispered in disbelief. "C-Cor-" This couldn't be happening. What was happening? It had only been a moment. "Cory!! Cory, answer me!!" Neither of them budged. Laniz didn't know if it was the numbness that was keeping her grounded or the paralyzing fear of a future dying in her useless arms. A fiery warmth tore across her face. Had blood gotten onto her cheeks? When the hot liquid fell onto the unconscious librarian's glasses below she recognized what it was. Tears.
"HELP!" Like a desperate banshee she cried out to anyone who might hear her.. her daughter, a nearby reader, the Divines. Anyone.
[END]
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